


No Price Too High

by hardboiledbaby, thayln



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2011-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thayln/pseuds/thayln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every man has his price. Starsky's was Hutch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Price Too High

**Author's Note:**

> A series of missing scenes. This started as a drabble written for the LJ me_and_thee_100 challenge 103: Callendar. Thayln tagged me with an awesome comment fic, then I added another section. Maybe we'll add to it someday. :) _—hbb_

They never talked about it afterward, not really. Hutch just gave him a long look before nodding tiredly when Starsky told him what happened.

Starsky would've been relieved... if he'd felt guilty, that is.

He didn't.

He should've. Letting Callendar walk—a stone-cold killer—went against every cop instinct he had. He'd crossed a line that he'd never imagined he could, not in his wildest dreams.

But Hutch dying—that was his worst nightmare. Starsky would've done anything to prevent it. He'd have sold his soul.

Maybe he did.

But Hutch was alive. For that, no price was too high.

  


* * * * *

  


Starsky jumped when the beer bottle hit the wall, but he shook his head, standing firm. "You’re just confused, Hutch. We let Kira get between us, and you think sex will fix it. But it won’t. Don’t you see? That’s not us, buddy. The street, that’s us. Partners..."

"Bullshit!" The word cracked like a gunshot, but then Hutch slumped into the couch, head almost slamming against the back. He sat for a moment, eyes closed, then wearily rolled his head to look at Starsky. "Starsk, why is it we only ever get the ugly side of love?"

That pissed Starsky off. "What the hell are you talking about, Hutch? There’s nothing ugly about the way I feel about you."

"Oh?" Hutch’s voice was hollow. "Remember Momo, remember Callendar? You’d d..." Hutch swallowed hard. "You would die for me, _kill_ for me, but you won’t let me…"

"I _never_ asked you to fall in love with me." Shock made Starsky’s voice harsher than he’d meant.

"No, I know you didn’t." Hutch pushed himself up. He stood hunched like an older man, but his eyes met Starsky's squarely. "And I never asked to be your price."

The door closed quietly behind him.

  


* * * * *

  


Hutch hung up the receiver, but not before Starsky heard him say, "You'll have it in the morning. Thank you for everything, Cap'n."

"Have what?" Starsky strode into the apartment, propelled by anger and fear. He got right in Hutch's face, but Hutch, his head bent under the weight he'd been carrying, wouldn't look at him.

"I think you know."

Hutch was slipping away, Starsky could feel it—like grains of sand on the beach, each wave pulling out more and more of the shoreline, washing it away bit by inexorable bit, until there was nothing left.

"You're quitting. I can't believe this. You're just gonna walk away from our partnership?"

"This _partnership_ "—Hutch spat it out like something rotten—"cost a man his life."

"Hey, I feel bad about Lionel too—"

"You should." Ignoring Starsky's flinch, Hutch continued, his voice ragged, "You're the one who caved and gave him up. You left him alone to get killed." He swallowed hard. "But you did those things for me. His blood is on _my_ hands."

Sick to his stomach, Starsky stared at Hutch, who was finally looking him in the eye. A chasm of grief and desperation opened up between them and Starsky teetered... until Hutch shoved him away from the edge.

"No more. I can't do this anymore. You're a good cop, Starsk. You're better off without the baggage." Before Starsky could respond, Hutch grabbed his jacket and left.

Starsky sank down on the sofa, his thoughts whirling. The vision of a future without his partner rose up in front of him, an evil, mocking specter. Cold. Empty.

Hutch was cutting him loose.

No, Hutch was cutting _himself_ loose, so as not to drag Starsky down.

Fucking dumb Blintz. Didn't he know that wasn't how it worked? Didn't he realize that there was nothing in this world Starsky wanted—not even the job—that would be worth losing his partner?

No price was too high for Hutch.

Hutch had called it "the ugly side of love," and maybe there was some truth to that. Still, right or wrong, Starsky couldn't bring himself to regret the ugly things he'd done. And he certainly didn't regret the love. He loved Hutch more than he'd ever loved anyone else. More than he _could_ ever love anyone else, he realized.

He didn't know where this love was going to take them, and frankly, it scared the shit out of him. But the alternative was unthinkable.

_We'll work it out, babe. I promise._

Starsky took a deep breath and got to his feet. He had a partner to find.

  


* * * * *

  


When Hutch's car went up in flames, Starsky thought for sure he'd lost his partner for good. Seeing him now—staring into the sunset, badge in hand—Starsky realized he still might.

Hutch looked weary, defeated. Still beautiful in Starsky's eyes, but it was the beauty of beach glass, worn down and battered.

"Hey."

Starsky muttered something about pollution, but Hutch wasn't going to be dissuaded, they both knew it.

Starsky pulled out his own shield. Disbelief, then hope, flared in Hutch's eyes.

That look—that was worth anything. Even this.

Together, they drew back their arms and let fly.

 

_"Not peace at any price, but love at all cost."  
—Canon Peter Green_


End file.
